


tell me when i'll get more than a dream of you

by volchitsae



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volchitsae/pseuds/volchitsae
Summary: “i found your box of letters underneath my bed last night and because i’m a nosy motherfucker i decided to read them and it turns out they were all addressed to me and the last one was dated the day you moved out and i’m not quite sure why i thought this would be a good idea but here i am, standing on your doorstep, wondering why the fuck we’re not together anymore” AU-“How am I s’posed to know if it’s his if I don’t open it?” Atsumu says aloud, feeling a little silly that he’s taken to speaking just to fill the silence, and opens the box.It’s packed to the brim with small envelopes with dates on them. He shuffles through them and can’t understand why the dates seem familiar until he hits their anniversary date: May 15th. Then all the rest of the dates make sense. There’s the date Sakusa first moved in, their first confessions, a few random dates Atsumu doesn’t recognize, and the date when Sakusa moved out.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 421





	tell me when i'll get more than a dream of you

Atsumu sneezes for the fourth time this rainy Saturday afternoon. It’s the week of summer showers, apparently. He’s trying to clean out this two-bedroom apartment for his landlord to show interested tenants around because he’s planning to downsize to a one bedroom one eventually; one with better water pressure and windows that can actually open. He’s done the math and thinks he can afford it now with his new engineering position with one of the high-speed train companies in the area.

It’d be nice to have a roommate to split the rent for a bigger apartment, but Atsumu isn’t ready to share his space yet. Osamu’s living with Suna, so he isn’t an option. That’s fine. It’s taken him long enough to get used to being alone.

He leans against the dry mop and sighs heavily at the closed door of what used to be Sakusa’s bedroom. He knows he has to go in there to clean it. There must be so much dust now after leaving it closed for months; it’s just hard to open that door.

“One, two, three,” he mutters, and turns the doorknob to swing the door open as fast as possible. The faintest smell of Sakusa’s favourite candle still lingers, he thinks, unsure if his mind is playing tricks or if the scent is actually there. The cold daylight tints the room grey and raindrops patter gently against the window. Nevertheless, there is some dust on the floor and dresser, so he grabs his washcloths and mop and gets to work.

All he can think about is how bare it looks. He tries not to envision the little potted herbs that would line the windowsill because Sakusa’s room got the most sunlight, or the color-coded closet, or the bed with two unmatching blankets because Sakusa always ran cold.

He shuffles and pushes the dry mop underneath the bedframe. As he crouches down, the mop swings upward and dislodges a little box that’s squeezed between the bedframe and the wall and it falls with a soft thump to the hardwood floor.

Atsumu’s brow wrinkles. He picks up the cardboard box and straightens back up to examine it. It’s unmarked and looks like a box used to store recipe cards or Christmas cards.

He goes to tuck his index fingertip underneath the slot to open the box up but stops halfway. He’s never seen this box before; is it Sakusa’s? Atsumu’s never seen it during their time together. If it is, he really shouldn’t open it.

“How am I s’posed to know if it’s his if I don’t open it?” he says aloud, feeling a little silly that he’s taken to speaking just to fill the silence, and opens the box.

It’s packed to the brim with small envelopes with dates on them. He shuffles through them and can’t understand why the dates seem familiar until he hits their anniversary date: May 15th. Then all the rest of the dates make sense. There’s the date Sakusa first moved in, their first confessions, a few random dates Atsumu doesn’t recognize, and the date when Sakusa moved out.

He closes the box and places it on the bed to trade it for the mop. He stops again, gnawing on his lip. He really wants to read them. He really shouldn’t.

He scrubs his hands over his face and then through his hair. “This is such a bad idea.”

Fuck it, he’s always been a nosy motherfucker. It’s not like he and Sakusa have anything to say to each other anymore, anyway.

“Higher powers out there, please forgive me.” Atsumu sits on the bed and opens the box to pick up the first letter. They’re not completely sealed, just the flap tucked into the opening of the envelope, so it’s easy to pull out the first letter.

_August 28 th, 2017_

_Dear roommate._

_Day 1 of living together. I don’t know who you are, but you need toner in your dye job and to change your toothbrush every three months as recommended by dentists. I’m studying to be a dentist, so I generally have authority on this subject._

_I told you this, and you argued with me about the mechanical motion of toothbrushing being effective with whatever age of toothbrush based on your engineering degree. I’m going to find a research paper on toothbrushes so you can change your sad toothbrush with the faded indicator that there because it TELLS YOU WHEN YOU SHOULD CHANGE IT._

_This argument/discussion with you was so stupid. I think that’s how life with you is going to go._

Atsumu snorts and shakes his head, remembering how prickly Sakusa was at first. He was, too; it’s difficult to co-habit with someone. He picks up the next one dated a while later.

_January 7 th, 2018_

_Dear Miya._

_Komori’s gonna give me so much fucking shit for this. He already is on my case about making eyes at you, but when you met him, we hung out with all of our friends and I forgot my glasses so it’s not like I could even see you in the first place. He insists that I was looking all fond over you, and I deny it._

_But it’s been a full semester of living with you, and oh my god, I can’t even write it. I’m using this to put these feelings somewhere and I still can’t even get it out on paper._

_I think the way you take care of the projects you build is incredibly cute. It’s so fucking endearing to see you tinker with your engine pieces and meticulously take things apart and put them back together according to a specific protocol. You’re never this focused and precise in the rest of your life. But I know you’ve changed some of your habits lately – the fact that we have a coordinated rotating chores schedule is testament. I’m so_ easy _, what the fuck._

_I’m never going to tell you._

Atsumu fiddles with the paper, fond, and takes a deep breath before putting it away for the next letter dated _April 1 st, 2018._

_Atsumu,_

_Against all odds and opposing forces, one of which is myself:_

_I think I’m falling in love with you. There wasn’t anything in particular today, except you gave me Oreos with toothpaste in them, and when it turned out you opened the package you re-sealed for the sake of the prank with a heat gun you stole from your lab the wrong way and gave me real Oreos and you bit into the toothpaste ones, I realized I wanted this._

_I’m the fool, aren’t I? You just left to go on a date._

Atsumu hadn’t known Sakusa was agonizing over this for so long. He remembers Sakusa saying he did feel jealous when Atsumu went out with other people (Atsumu was trying to move on from what he thought was an unrequited crush), but never mentioned how _sad_ it made him. He puts away this letter and picks up the one with the date of their anniversary.

_May 15 th, 2018 _

_Atsumu,_

_I can hear you in your room right now going through what seems to be your entire closet to find an outfit for your date. Then you’re going to ask me what I think of it, as you always do, and I’ll tell you genuinely what I think, as I always do. You really do look nice in that shirt Osamu gave you. Stop saying you don’t want to wear it because your brother gave it to you, weirdo._

_I can hear you yelling for me to help you find something. I can’t believe you paired that tropical floral pattern with jeans on our trip to the grocery store when we first met, but look at you now._

Atsumu remembers he had worn a dark green crewneck underneath a black jean jacket with some black pants. He had put on a necklace with a steel ring at the end of it and made sure his belt buckle and watch were sleet grey metal to match.

“You look good,” Sakusa had said, and Atsumu saw the tips of his ears turn pink. Never to let it go, he had teased by saying, “Good enough for you to take me on a date, Omi-Omi? You’re always nitpickin’ my choices, I even matched metals this time.”

“Yeah, actually,” Sakusa replied, and both of them stopped moving. Atsumu remembers Sakusa’s face tight with nervousness. “I do want to go on a date with you.”

“Well, I’m all dressed up. What’re you still doing in those sweatpants?”

“Trying to see if you’ll stay home to make out on the couch with me. We might as well be comfortable.”

Atsumu had cancelled the date with whomever he was supposed to meet.

“God, fuck,” present-Atsumu says, the ache in his chest so sudden he brings one hand to it. There are many more letters, but he skips all the way to the last letter, dated several months ago: the date Sakusa moved out.

_December 21 st, 2019_

_Dear Atsumu,_

_I didn’t think I’d ever move out. I don’t really know how it happened. I know you’ve been unhappy lately. My lab technician position has been fine, but all you’ve gotten were rejections from the companies you’ve always dreamed of working for. I understand how much that wears you down._

_I didn’t think that would wear you down on us, though._

_We’ve spent nearly two years together; it’s both a long time and not a long time at all. But I am – was – ready to spend much more than two years, and it hurt when you said you weren’t sure what you wanted out of life anymore._

_I’m moving out today. I hope by giving you space you can figure out what you do want. You’re never going to find this, because it’s tucked up in the bedframe between one leg and the wall. I've left my new address with you because I'd still drop everything if you needed me, Atsumu. I hope you know that._

_Yours,_

_God. In this moment, yes. Maybe I can move on someday._

_Yours,_

_Sakusa Kiyoomi_

Reading this now, he’s confused; he remembers that conversation going differently. He’d been lying on the living room floor, worn out from interviews and applications that were going nowhere. He had tried so hard and just had to keep trying.

“I just feel like I’m a human shell full of interview-perfect dialogue,” he muttered.

“You’d be the NPC I’d keep interacting with.” Atsumu had snorted and rolled his head to look at Sakusa in the kitchen brewing some tea.

“After all of this, all of school, all these interviews, I’m havin’ a hard time even seein’ the point anymore.” Sakusa had hummed with empathy and sat on the ground to run a hand through his hair.

“Is this even what I want?” Atsumu had said, waving his hands around at their apartment. He didn’t see Sakusa’s eyes grow dim. “I dunno. I don’t even know anymore, Omi-kun. I just don’t know what I want.”

And after that, he remembers Sakusa becoming more withdrawn. He had thought maybe work was the issue but was too afraid to ask. When Sakusa had dropped the bombshell of moving out and ending the relationship, Atsumu was so blindsided that he just let Sakusa go without asking for an explanation.

The breakup still hurts, thinking back. All Sakusa had said was, “I’m going to move out in a month. Thank you for everything.”

Atsumu had spent a lot of time away from the apartment that month, mostly at Osamu and Suna’s place, away from the sheet of note paper that he knew was Sakusa's new apartment address – it was difficult to be in the house that looked like home knowing it wasn’t anymore.

And now, it turns out they danced around each other in this odd miscommunication where each of them believed the other didn’t want to be together anymore but inwardly both of them _still did_.

“We’ve made such a fuckin' mess of it,” Atsumu sighs, shrugging on a hoodie. He pockets the final letter with the address in mind (he's memorized it even though he only looked at the paper once before tossing it away) and heads out into the rain.

It’s not until he’s soaked to the bone and shivering on the apartment doorstep that he remembers this probably isn’t the best idea.

Atsumu presses the buzzer button.

“Hello?” Atsumu’s heart picks up speed and he tries not to shiver while speaking.

“Hey, Omi-kun.” There’s a pause.

“Hey. Third floor, 6012.”

The intercom line drops, and the door unlocks. Atsumu’s mind is whirling through what he wants to say to Sakusa as he drips water onto the floor of the elevator and all the way to the door of 6012.

Sakusa opens the door when he presses the buzzer. It’s all Atsumu can do not to launch himself at Sakusa – he looks the same, perfectly disgruntled, shoulders hunched in his soft sweater. His face is neutral but guarded; when Atsumu fishes the letter from his hoodie pocket, he gives a small resigned sigh.

“I read them,” Atsumu blurts out. “M’ sorry that I read them, but I need you t'know I made a mistake.”

“I already know that. That’s why I moved out,” Sakusa replies, brow furrowing.

Atsumu’s fucking this apology up already. He rakes his hands through his damp hair, so instead of it going in fifty directions it’s going in eighty different directions. “Yes, but not really, let me explain –“

“There’s nothing to explain,” Sakusa says, fatigue lacing his tone. “You said didn’t know what you wanted –“

“Not in th' way you thought I meant." The scowl deepens and Atsumu better get a move on before he doesn't make it out of here alive. "I do now, I mean. Know what I want.”

“And what is that? You can't just come back thinking I'm a safety net.” Sakusa snaps, eyes narrow.

Now or never.

“I never meant that I wasn’t sure about you, Omi-kun. I meant I didn’t know what kind of life I wanted to have that would lemme have the life I wanted with you, and 'm sorry I wasn’t clear about that.

You gave me the space to start figurin’ that out, and I see that now. Hindsight's 20/20." Sakusa snorts a little, blinking through his frames. "At the time I thought you pullin’ away meant you didn’t want to be together anymore, so I started closin’ off too. I let you go without ever askin’ you _why_. And I shouldn’t have; I should’ve said somethin’.” Atsumu shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets and shivers. “So here I am now, saying somethin’, ‘cause we’ve got everythin’ all wrong.”

He sucks in a breath. “I still love you,” he says, his voice finally cracking to match the way his heart has been for months. “I still love you, Kiyoomi. I’m sorry for not communicatin’ better.”

Sakusa crosses his arms in front of him and leans against the doorframe. His expression is still blank. “You always were good at talking.”

Atsumu blinks. “Still am. Oh, fuck,” he swears, rearing back, the reality of the situation crashing into him. Who does he think he is, some movie character with romantic declarations? He’s totally disrespected the privacy and time needed apart that comes with breakups. The wishes that Sakusa wrote down could have long been forgotten by now. “All I’ve done is talk. And I don’t even know if you even want me here, I just showed up out of nowhere, fuck, are you datin’ someone else now? I’m so sorry, I’m gonna go –“

Sakusa grabs his wrist. The heat of it sinks straight into Atsumu’s bones. “Don’t go. Stay the night,” Sakusa says, his eyes at their feet. “You're going to catch a cold if you walk back home in the rain,” he continues.

“Don’t hafta’ tell me twice,” Atsumu says, and steps inside. The apartment is warm and comfortable, all the little things Atsumu has been missing of Sakusa’s presence in his apartment present in this one. It’s like he walked into Sakusa’s room except now it’s larger, with a living room and kitchen.

Sakusa hands him another shirt and some sweatpants cut short at the knee. Atsumu doesn’t comment on it, but he aches a little bit because Sakusa still remembers he runs hot and would eventually sweat through the night if he wore full length sweatpants.

“Thanks,” he says, and is halfway through taking his hoodie off before he remembers he should probably not strip in his ex-boyfriend’s living room.

“It’s fine,” Sakusa says, and turns away to the kitchen. “I’ll make tea.”

“You can just say you wanna see me strip, Omi-kun.” He hurries through pulling off his socks, pants, and underwear and tugs on the sweatpants, hopping up and down. Is it too soon for jokes like that?

“Taking off wet clothes is the least graceful thing. Good luck making it look attractive.” Sakusa strolls back out and snorts loudly because Atsumu has just wrenched off his hoodie and thrown it to the ground with a frustrated noise.

“It’s all waterlogged, heavy as shit.” Now fully clothed and dry, he takes one mug of tea stretched out toward him and they sit an arm’s length apart on the couch.

A few beats pass.

“I thought you broke up with me,” Sakusa starts.

“I thought you broke up with _me_ ,” Atsumu says, and they chuckle.

Sakusa sets his mug down. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve spoken up. I should’ve told you my thought process, but instead I wrote it,” Sakusa gestures at the rumpled letter, wry.

He fiddles at his sleeves he's pulled over his palms. “I was just scared. After all this time invested in being together, it seemed like you didn’t want that anymore. I should’ve asked you outright instead of leaving; I left because I thought you needed time without me to figure out what you wanted. I didn’t ask you what you thought either, or even tried to talk anything out. I think I was too hurt by rejection from you. Or what I perceived as rejection.”

“I wasn’t clear about that,” Atsumu starts, and is ready to apologize again until Sakusa waves him off.

“We both got into our own heads.”

Atsumu nods in agreement. “We both gotta speak up. Surprisin’ that for all the bickerin’ we do, it’s easy to keep quiet when it really matters.”

Sakusa nods as well, eyes on his hands folded in his lap. He reaches out, carefully, and Atsumu uncurls his fingers from where they’re gripping onto his thighs with clammy palms to entwine their hands together.

He watches Sakusa’s eyelashes flutter behind his glasses when he looks up at Atsumu. His expression is still carefully held shut.

“What do you think of the future now?”

“Still terrifyin’,” Atsumu admits, twiddling his thumbs against Sakusa’s palms. “The new job is great though, still is, even after a couple of months in. Feelin’ like I’m more myself nowadays, before things got bad between us.” Sakusa nods again.

“Congratulations on the new job. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

He sees Sakusa’s throat bob when he swallows. “We’ll have to properly communicate from now on, but. What an ordeal," he says, his mouth quirking up at the corners. "Could've saved us a few months. Knowing what we know now, do you want to try this again?” Sakusa asks. He can't quite look Atsumu in the eye, and Atsumu has to restrain himself from kissing him then and there. “Being together?”

“Yeah,” Atsumu replies, breath coming out of his lungs in a relieved rush. “Of course. I’d love to. I love you. Still. Obviously.”

Sakusa purses his lips to not laugh. “Good. Back at you."

Atsumu makes an annoyed noise.

"I love you too.”

“Jesus, finally,” Atsumu says, and Sakusa snorts and shoves his shoulder. Just like that, it’s easy again. Atsumu's moving before he realizes it and stops halfway, arms outstretched. 

"Uh, can I?"

"Yeah," Sakusa replies. He sits back and opens his arms, and the relief Atsumu feels when he can basically tackle Sakusa into the couch is palpable. Atsumu is greedily nuzzling into Sakusa’s neck to inhale his scent, snuffling so that Sakusa laughs and combs his hands through Atsumu’s hair. His eyes squeeze shut with the emotion of being able to be so close again after so long.

Things are okay. He knows they know what went wrong and what to do better.

Then he gets a boner.

“M’sorry,” he says, shifting his hips back. “We can just cuddle.” Sakusa pulls back and scrutinizes Atsumu’s face.

“I haven’t kissed you in months,” Sakusa mutters, looking genuinely grumpy about it. Atsumu has never been more endeared.

“D’you still want to?” He watches Sakusa’s eyes flicker over his face before landing on his mouth. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Sakusa says, and that’s all Atsumu needs. They both carefully ease into it, part giddiness and part disbelief that they’re able to do this again. Atsumu trades soft, sweet kisses until Sakusa shifts his entire weight into Atsumu’s lap and tilts his jaw up with one hand for a deeper kiss.

Atsumu huffs against Sakusa’s mouth. His nerves endings still feel frayed from the different emotions he’s gone through today. Sensing this, Sakusa eases off.

“No, don’t stop. It’s good, I’m good,” Atsumu says, running his hands up and down Sakusa’s back. “M’ just feelin’ a lot at once. I missed you, Omi-kun.”

“Just this for tonight, then,” Sakusa murmurs, eyes soft, rocking their hips together. All Atsumu can do is nod, unable to say that he’d take anything, even just lying on the couch with Sakusa in the next room, if it meant they could have this.

They pant into each other’s mouths with each press of their hips. Sakusa snakes one hand down between them and his fingertips brush against the skin just underneath the waistband of Atsumu’s sleep shorts.

“Wow, convenient,” he says, rutting against Sakusa’s palm. “You sure you didn’t give me these clothes without underwear just to get in my pants?”

“Those are _my_ pants.”

“Who else wears sweatpants _shorts_?” Sakusa chuckles and sucks gently at the hinge where Atsumu’s jaw meets his neck.

“On second thought, I actually think those _were_ yours.”

“No biggie,” Atsumu says. “We can share ‘em.”

Sakusa shakes his head in disagreement. “Two people cannot fit in those at once.”

“I dunno, Omi-kun, the waistband elastic is pretty stretchy. We should try.”

“Get those off already,” Sakusa demands, and Atsumu barks out a laugh.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Atsumu wiggles and tugs at the sweatpants Sakusa has on to get them off as well, and he licks his palm to wet it before curling his hand around the bases of their cocks. Pre-come slides and mixes, and the combination of pushing up against one another with the pressure of their hands has Atsumu and Sakusa nearly smacking their heads when they curve into one another.

Everything feels heightened, almost desperate, the pace fast and sloppy. Atsumu murmurs _love you_ , _sorry,_ _missed you_ against Sakusa’s mouth. Sakusa’s glasses bump against his nose and he gets a kiss pressed to his brow, so gentle he could cry.

Heat builds between them and Atsumu reaches the precipice faster than he can understand; all he feels is _yes_ and _want_ and _love_ and _now_. They kiss as if they cannot get close enough.

“Gonna come,” Atsumu says, apologetic. “Fuck, you’re so good.” Sakusa knocks their foreheads together gently and Atsumu can see his eyes are heated, pupils blown and bright.

“Me too. Atsumu,” Sakusa pants, eyelids squeezing shut. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Atsumu says, and he comes with a groan into Sakusa’s shoulder.

They clean up with tissues and go to brush their teeth. Sakusa opens a new toothbrush package for him and Atsumu laughs at the sight, then has to explain why.

“I really did tick ya off back then,” he says.

“Still do.”

“ _Hey_.”

Sakusa huffs a laugh through his nose. “We’ve come a long way.”

Atsumu dives into bed like he’s jumping into a pool. He rolls in the (two) blankets until he is cocooned in the warmth and scent of Sakusa.

Once Sakusa has wrestled a blanket for himself, he asks, “Are you still living in the apartment? The lease is ending soon.”

Atsumu rolls to face him. “Yeah, I was plannin’ to downsize to a one-bedroom apartment. I was cleanin’ the place up, that’s how I found the letters.”

“Just move in here,” Sakusa replies. “There’s enough room for the both of us. There’s better water pressure here.”

“You sure? There’s only one bed.”

Sakusa raises one eyebrow. “Were you planning on sleeping in a different one?”

“Hell no, not if I don’t have to.”

“You won’t have to,” Sakusa says, and the look in his eyes is sure and warm. Atsumu seriously considers breaking the lease early to be able to stay here as soon as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> this was an outtake from sakuatsu nsfw week 2020 day 2 using the "don't go, stay the night." i felt like this piece has a shorter sex scene than i was satisfied with as a work submitted to a nsfw week, so i decided to publish it separately. i hope you enjoyed it!!
> 
> title from [spotlight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rgy-eAzARNE) by jessie ware.
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
